One 13 hour car ride and a couple of scary drives up and down a mountain later, my husband tells me why he planned this trip to Tennessee. It was for breakfast.

Breakfast!

On my list of favorite meals of the day, breakfast has to be my least favorite. I’m allergic to egg whites so they’ve always made my stomach hurt after indulging in a delicious eggs Benedict or gooey egg sandwich and what’s breakfast without eggs.

One restaurant… 13 hour drive… cabin in the middle of nowhere with no cell signal or wi-fi… well water showers… this place had better be the best breakfast I had ever eaten in my life.

They had all your usual breakfast items, bacon, omelets, waffles, Oj. Nothing seemed too extraordinary. I ordered the country fried steak which came with hash browns, two eggs over easy, grits, a biscuit with gravy, and an Aretha Frankenstein pancake. Whatever that was.

My meal came to the table shortly in a cast iron pan. It looked and smelled amazing and I was ready to dig in. Then came the pancake. I wasn’t really sure if the item I was ogling was actually a pancake because it looked more like the texture of a regular slice. It was fluffy but grainy. Not at all like a traditional pancake should have been. I happily ate my skillet of deliciousness, not yet embarking on my pancake endeavor. Then I was ready. I like more savory than sweet meals so I was expecting to have just one bite of this pancake and move on.

NOPE

Every idea I had of what a pancake should be was thrown out the window (and rolled down the mountain we were on). It was like cornbread and a pancake had a baby and it was this heavenly, thick, savory-sweet, dessert that was deserving of all the awards that a breakfast item can get.

It was like I had been deprived my whole life of what a real breakfast could be like and now here I was, sitting on top of a mountain eating a pancake. Two things I never thought would happen at the same time. This was by far my favorite part of the trip. Is that ok? I think so.

This past weekend we were in Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg Tennessee exploring mountains and being outdoorsy. When I say being outdoorsy I don’t mean drinking moon shine outside on a porch swing, although that did happen.

Let me tell you, driving a Camry up a mountain was just a little terrifying. We stayed in a cute little cabin in the middle on nowhere on the side of a mountain. Literally on the SIDE of a mountain. Like if I jumped off the balcony I would fall several dozen feet before hitting the bottom.

It was nice for the weekend but I wouldn’t want to live there. The winding roads and driving up and down hills made me homesick (and carsick) for my very flat very straight roads of Miami. We do plan on going back when its warmer to do mountain biking and white water rafting. Zip lining in the cold was fun, until it wasn’t, and that’s going to be a post all by itself.

Last night I saw Wicked the musical with my best friend Grizzy instead of going on a date with my man. (He was working and we had plans for the weekend anyway.)

It was her first time, my third. It was as amazing as the first time I saw it almost 10 years ago.

It reminded me of my high school days on the stage and how much I miss performing. I always get emotional seeing live shows because I know the feeling of hot lights in your face and getting a laugh from the audience at just the right moment. It’s this crazy adrenaline rush that gives you a high for the rest of the night.

Stepping into a character and becoming another person takes a lot out of you and reveals a lot about you as well. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable, you have to push yourself past your comfort zone and open up to strangers who may or may not like what you have to say.

I miss the laughter the most. When you say the funniest line in the script and you have to suppress your own laugh because the audience won’t stop laughing. That’s the best feeling in the world, making people laugh.

Maybe I’ll get back into it some day. I could audition to be Blanche Dubois in the Hialeah rendition of A Street Car Named Desire. Or maybe I’ll become a stage mom like mine was and make all the costumes for the shows and bring all the snacks. Either one of those options would make me happy.